


A New Hope

by s_alt, valdemort



Series: Avengers Mansion Challenges [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: And not right in the head, Authors are unapologetic, Challenges, Gen, Movie-inspired feels, Silly Writing Game, Sort-of Fluff, even heroes cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 17:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_alt/pseuds/s_alt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/valdemort/pseuds/valdemort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Tonight was yet another episode of Tony's self-prescribed mission to educate Steve in the movies he's missed during his 60+-year-sleep. Tonight's selection: </em>Star Wars Episode IV - A New Hope. </p>
<p>Movie night for the Avengers turns out to be not quite the escapist fun Steve was expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second story that came from the **Avengers Mansion Challenge!** game that originated with story #1. Full rules are posted with [that story, here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/455834) This particular story (and the later ones here on out) got passed back and forth over a much longer time period than #1 (several+ days), and was written more with the original intention of making it a story for posting in the first place, while still enjoying ourselves with the writing game. 
> 
> Not quite as fluffy as #1 was, but still fun :)

“This is quintessential space opera, first of its kind. Spawned the genre,” Tony explained, gesturing wildly, as he flopped down next to Steve. He grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl in Steve’s lap as he continued, “You’re going to _love_ it.” Tonight was yet another episode of Tony's self-prescribed mission to educate Steve in the movies he's missed during his 60+-year-sleep. Tonight's selection: _Star Wars Episode IV - A New Hope_. 

Tony shoved the entire handful of popcorn into his mouth and motioned Natasha and Bruce over. “Come on, it’s starting,” he said, barely intelligible. He snuggled down in the plush leather theater reclining seat next to Steve’s. Natasha and Bruce plopped down in the row behind them, Natasha kicking back the footrest on hers. 

“I haven’t seen this in over a decade,” Bruce reminisced, smiling just a little. Natasha patted his knee a moment and passed a soda Bruce’s direction. That he declined, but happily joined her in the bowl of popcorn she offered just as the opening music started.

"Now, no spoiling the movie," Tony warned, turning around looking at the two behind him. "Steve hasn't seen this at all, and we don't want to ruin any of it for him.” 

“Steve hasn’t expressed a _desire_ to see it, either,” Steve replied, passing the bowl of popcorn to Tony as he tried to stand. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea of a space age, much less...this.” Nevertheless, he paused when sound erupted and a wall of words appeared on the screen.

"Give the movie ten minutes before you give up on it," Bruce piped up. "Besides, after some of the unbelievable things we've fought against, this is comparatively rational." 

"Shhh," hushed Tony as Steve sat back down, eyes locked on the scrolling words, which soon faded to the panning shot over the planet. 

Steve shushed and watched - even found himself liking the film - but he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being scrutinized. Every couple of minutes, Tony would turn and look at him, or Bruce would lean forward and murmur something, or Natasha would exclaim and clap his shoulder. They weren’t watching the film; they knew it by heart. They were watching _Steve_ watch it, and that was...uncomfortable. To avoid it, he got up, moved to the back row. 

Every set of eyes in the room followed him to the back, watched as he moved to the center seat. Tony paused the movie and turned more fully toward Steve. “Hey - everything okay?”

Steve sighed, having to explain what he’d hoped to avoid. "I just...don't like feeling that _I'm_ the entertainment of the evening, instead of the movie. Back here, I can watch it in peace." Such scrutiny wasn’t out of the ordinary in Steve’s life; these days, it seemed everyone eyed him with curiosity and a little sadness. The man out of time. He could feel it in Tony’s gaze, that desire to know what it was like without having to feel it. And though Bruce and Natasha averted their eyes once he’d explained, he knew they wondered as well. 

Tony's gaze lingered the longest, curiosity tinged with a bit of sadness. He nodded slightly at Steve, then turned back around and started the movie again. 

Without all the interruptions and stares, Steve started to relax, even smiled a little at the interplay between the stuffy golden robot (reminded him a tad of Jarvis, actually) and the stubby, plucky blue and white one. He set aside his confusion - after all, he’d been able to accept _The Invisible Man_ when it came out - and reminded himself of what Tony had told him: that this was a timeless story, one he believed that Steve could appreciate, grasp, understand. 

Things settled down, his teammates managing to keep the side comments and preemptive chuckles to a minimum as they watched. Steve leaned back his chair, getting comfortable; he could relate to the characters, and the story, though futuristic, was really just familiar archetypes presented in a new manner. He made a list of the archetypes he recognized: Luke, the reluctant hero. Leia, the wealthy, naive “voice of the people,” hurting as many as she helped. The robots - Shakespearean poles, pulled together out of kinship and a need for the plot device. Grand Moff Tarkin - the eager politician and military leader, ambitious for power, no matter the cost. 

And then there was Darth Vader, who blew up an entire planet just to prove a point.

Every time that character came on screen, Steve took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was just a story, pure fiction. But he couldn’t help thinking that the reason archetypes come up in stories is because they hit a chord of truth, and this one hit a little too close to home. Vader was an archetype Steve was all too familiar with: evil incarnate. The lust for power for power’s sake, that mad pursuit of it that both causes fellow amoral, ambitious people to flock and takes down the innocents around them. It was all so vibrant, so _alive_ , in color on the screen, as alive as any evil he’d ever touched, ever faced. Ever destroyed.

It was all so...real. Just a little _too_ real. He wondered if any of the others saw or felt what he did, or if being displaced in time gave him a unique perspective. He watched Tony boo Vader and fling popcorn at the screen, as if the character were nothing more than a classic melodrama villain. Natasha kicked his chair, but that didn’t dim Tony’s enthusiasm; he just paused, grinned hard her direction, and went right back to it. So neither of them seemed as unnerved as Steve felt.

Bruce, though...he watched everything with a quiet detachment, a hint of a smile. Steve couldn’t place the man’s focus, couldn’t tell if he was actually watching the screen, the others, or something in his own head. He glanced back at Steve, only briefly, and that inscrutable look didn’t help. Steve turned away before he could stare.

The plot of the movie thickened, then, and took Steve away: a world blown apart, a wild escape, something about a trash compactor monster. _Bucky would have eaten this up_ , Steve thought, smiling as he remembered his friend’s boyhood fascination with science fiction, the little wind-up robots he’d had all over his room and, later, hidden in his footlocker. He would have held up Luke’s devotion as courage, of course, but Steve knew he secretly would have rooted for Han and the wookie. Heck, Peggy might have even enjoyed it, especially Princess Leah and her no-nonsense way of dealing with the men around her. She probably would have found it refreshing, seeing this development of the women's movement displayed so openly on the silver screen. 

Peggy. Bucky. He imagined them both there with him for a moment, so vibrant and real he almost saw them. He’d seen them both, not even two months ago in his own mind. Too close, too soon. Steve’s throat worked as he tried to settle back into the story, reminding himself that his past may as well be ancient history to the rest of those in the room.

A loud boom rattled the walls, though, and Steve’s memories came to life. Mortars exploded behind his eyes, and men fell, screaming. There was fire, the smell of blood, men burned to ash by Hydra weapons. He ran through the battlefield, shooting and killing and fighting his way through; saw Bucky’s face, felt his heart lurch with that final look at the photo of Peggy as he took the plane down, icy water filling his lungs. 

All those pent-up emotions suddenly welled to Steve’s surface. He’d just been so _busy_ before, getting whisked here and there by Fury and the mission, caught up again in having to save the world. He learned during the war to keep his emotions locked up, pushed down, but he wasn’t at war now, and those emotions didn’t want to be buried any more. And when the guru, the teacher, turned off his light sabre and sacrificed himself for the safety of the remaining team, Steve couldn’t hold them back any more. He saw Bucky and Peggy and so many good men and women fighting and dying so long ago to end this same evil, yet here it was - alive, so far into the future, and showing no signs of abating. It never ended.

Tears came, and Steve ducked his head to keep them from being seen. He sat there, one hand grabbing his hair, the other clenching his thigh, letting them come, holding back the sounds that wanted to come with them. He looked at the screen, vision blurry, but made out nothing. The movie was in full battle mode; Tony and Natasha chanted “stay on target, stay on target,” as music poured from the speakers, the bass rattling the floor, but Steve’s mind played memories of pain and death and people long lost, leaving no room for the present. 

The seat next to Steve’s went heavy, then, and a tub of popcorn swam into focus between his face and the floor. “You’re missing the best part,” Bruce murmured. “Better with this.” Steve sniffed and snatched up the tub, grateful for something to focus on, and Bruce let his hand fall to Steve’s arm and squeeze once. And there the hand remained, warm and firm and real and present, as the movie wound down and the front row cheered and Steve’s tears slowed. The sounds of the room came back into focus slowly, and Steve patted that comforting hand in thanks. Bruce gave him a small smile, then quietly returned to his seat in the front.

On the screen, the characters bounced around, sharing congratulations with each other. Steve smiled slightly for their happiness, even though he imagined it wouldn't last long. Still, for the moment, they had time together, proud of their victory, a short peace won.

“Poor guys’ve got no idea what Lucas has in store for them,” Tony piped up over the triumphant music, leaning back as the heroes accepted their medals, smiled at one another. His eyes sought out Steve. “No good deed, and all that.”

“Let them have their moment,” Bruce replied, tossing a piece of popcorn at Tony. Tony flinched and smirked, and Bruce smiled just a bit. “End the night on a high note. Well deserved.”

Tony turned back around to watch the remainder of the movie and chuckled at Chewbacca's roar. Bruce looked over at Steve, quirking an eyebrow at him in silent inquiry. 

Steve answered him with a smile and barest nod of thanks. "Yeah, nothing wrong with a little happily ever after, even if it can't last."

**Author's Note:**

> For reference and curiosity’s sake, here’s the start & end conditions for this particular story that spawned this. 
> 
> **Start game event:** Movie night for the Avengers, Tony educating Steve (with whomever else wants to join) to Star Wars - the original episode, IV
> 
> **End game event:** Steve cries silently, and only Bruce notices.


End file.
